<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>katydid's melody by orphan_account</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23767486">katydid's melody</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Eddie POV, F/F, Lesbian Eddie Kaspbrak, Lesbian Richie Tozier, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Soft Eddie Kaspbrak, Soft Music, Soft Richie Tozier, aesthetic discussions, because eddie is pining man, emmie is visualizing memories through music, gay pining, genderbent losers club, genderbent reddie, lesbian reddie, this is just the intro there will be plot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 10:47:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,262</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23767486</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Emmie finds, while reminiscing, that what she feels for Robbie is no longer just a crush. She reflects upon this as she listens to the playlist that reminds her of Robbie, and is brought out of her head space from the girl herself, asking for help on her own playlist.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. bittersweet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Emmie was laying in bed, blearily blinking at her popcorn ceiling, content to do nothing but listen to faint nostalgic music through her shitty earbuds. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t let me go-oo</span>
  </em>
  <span>, crooned Harry. It was on her Musi playlist of ‘songs that remind me of her’, and maybe if it was 11 pm or later, Emmie would be crying silently to this playlist, a combination of sad love songs and peppy songs about pining and just about everything in between. However, as the 7 pm sun filtered in through her window, golden rays warming her cheeks and cool spring wind pouncing at her short-clad legs, Emmie felt perfectly content.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She found it funny, maybe, the differences in preference that Robbie and Emmie both had; while Emmie preferred golden sunlight, dappled spots on the forest floor and the hour that turned everything a beautiful warm yellow, Robbie was infatuated with blue hour and it’s every intricacy. It suited her, surely. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Robbie’s eyes were a confusing blue that Emmie had originally used as an excuse for her want and need to look at her best friend. Sometimes, in the direct sunlight, her eyes had warm brown highlights, flecks of gold popping like a beautiful waterfall’s stone staircase, a place of Emmie’s memories with her father before his passing. This, too, became a way out for Emmie to deny her undoubtedly not platonic feelings towards her best friend. It was the last one, before Emmie accepted it, internally at least. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Emmie learned later, after trying to look for pictures that reminded her of Robbie, that her best friends eyes were not blue, but gray. She discovered that gray eyes were only a bit more common than green eyes. Of course Robbie was one of a kind. With her every mannerism, she was unique and lovely and made Emmie’s heart beat fast against her rib cage.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It turns out that during blue hour, gray eyes turn a dark blue. But the strangest thing is, they’re breathtaking to see. Emmie was sitting by her window with Robbie, arms resting lightly on her windowsill, as the sun disappeared fully beneath the trees in the distance. Slowly, a purple light washed over them, and Emmie was surely in awe, but Robbie hushed her murmurs and instructed her to wait for the real show.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Emmie did, sans her usual grumble, entranced by the pink reflection on her best friends face. She looked back out the window as the lighting turned a magnificent royal blue. A soft </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh</span>
  </em>
  <span> left Emmie’s lips as she really did look. She could understand Robbie’s love for the time, and moved to tell her so, but her breath caught as she saw her eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While in golden hour, Robbie’s eyes enveloped a honey brown color within their gray depths, in blue hour, there were so many different layers and layers of colors. Closest to the window, the coolest gray’s bits hit the light, but the prettiest flecks of sea green and turquoise surrounded Robbie’s pupils, and a navy outlined the whole edge of the irises, a stark contrast that left Emmie breathless. That was when she realized that her feelings weren’t a sense of nostalgia or curiosity; they were a deep crush that flowed as quick and fast as the Kenduskeag after the fall thunderstorms. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was also then that Emmie realized that she was staring like a buffoon at her best friends softly smiling face. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “Rob, it’s so pretty,” she had whispered softly, not looking away for fear of losing the sight in front of her. Robbie’s porcelain skin had become it’s own shade of blue, and her dark brown hair became black and indigo and the same navy as her eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She reminisced upon it all, the soft way that Robbie’s lips curved up, silver braces at the time glinting in the final remnants of light, a gently spoken, </span>
  <em>
    <span>yeah</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Robbie’s soft instances were reserved only for Emmie and for vulnerable moments for the Losers. Maybe Emmie was a brat for thinking it, but she was glad that only she was allowed to see this side of Robbie for a majority of the time. The side of Robbie reminded her of last summers soft playlist, filled with cotton candy fluff and love and crinkles beside her eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the beginning of luv note by Chloe Moriondo started, crickets chirping just like the summertime, memories of katydid’s singing and the original four Losers searching for the little dainty white moths played over Emmie’s eyes. They had little plastic nets, flimsy as high hell, and Bill had given them to them. Robbie had caught a few in the two summers that they regularly did that, comparable to the same few that Bill had gotten and unlike the </span>
  <em>
    <span>none</span>
  </em>
  <span> that Sam and Emmie caught. Sam had been entranced by birds in the sky, the song of a chickadee pulling her into a light paralysis as she stared off into the trees. Emmie thought back and recalled that she didn’t want to hurt the delicate little bugs, their wings fragile and easily crushable.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Emmie remembered, too, her father getting a katydid off of a living room curtain, once. It had been a hot summer's day, the windows opened without their usual mesh, or maybe a door cracked open long enough for the bug to hop in. She learned, that day, that katydid’s looked like little crickets that wore leaves as dresses. She had been scared at first, but still had tentatively held the bug with her father's assistance for a few moments. Her mother had been pissed to high hell that Frank had let the insect stay even longer in the house then it already had. Even so, for years after the occasion, Emmie had accounts for computer games named after katydids. Robbie used to joke that Emmie must’ve had a little sister named Katy, with all of the rambling about the insect. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Emmie thought about her father often. Despite his departure over 8 years ago, she still could feel his big warm arms wrapped around her, tanned and lightly freckled with long hairs all down them. She remembered big hands swamping her own, the cool metal of his wedding ring stark in contrast with every other feeling at the time. As Chloe’s soothing voice continued, </span>
  <em>
    <span>always wanna be your flower</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Emmie’s memory of her father's secure arms faded and were replaced by Robbie’s.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were significantly thinner, with no muscle on them really, but they too were freckled, and had dark hairs strewed across. The warmth across Emmie’s back from the hug, the wrapped tight sense, and the same cloud like feeling in her head accompanying the sweet sense of happiness filling her heart. Robbie smelled of vanilla and peppermint, faintly of a soft detergent and something untraceable that was just simply </span>
  <em>
    <span>Robbie. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The slow beginning of Sweet Tooth by Cavetown followed after the fading of luv note, nice staccato electric bass rhythms replacing the sweet gentle ukulele strums. They were interrupted though, by an iMessage notification sounding from Robbie, saying,</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>hey kk, wanna help me with a playlist?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Emmie smiled the nickname, one k for her beloved katydid, and another for Kaspbrak. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>you bet your sweet ass i do ! </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A low buzz as Robbie responded just as fast as Emmie, this time a link. It was called ‘my favorite girl’. Emmie hoped it was about her. She really, really did. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. art</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>i made a thing of robbie from emmie’s perspective :)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>heres sumn i finished last night :) i made it on my phone and a not very good drawing app so pls excuse the quality</p><p> </p><p>
  <a href="https://twitter.com/bobagumbicth/status/1261710259145539584?s=21">blue hr robbie</a>
</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>